


Accidental Mistress

by BekahRose



Series: Aithusa's [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BDSM, D/s, F/F, F/M, Fanart, Manip, Riding Crops, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 15:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekahRose/pseuds/BekahRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> This had never even popped up on the radar when she was planning her future, but now she wouldn't change it for the wide, wide world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidental Mistress

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended. The base artwork, also, does not belong to me, I found them through google-search. I make no money from these images.  
>  **Notes:** The fic and art are a part of the Aithusa's-Verse, which can be found on my [DW](http://miss-bekahrose.dreamwidth.org/tag/graphics+series:+camelot+nights). Mega, mega thanks to all the lovelies of Merlin-Chat, because you're all lovely. And huge snuggles to [V](http://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth) for the quick read-through, and the flailing. You are awesome!
> 
> \-----

She looks at her first profile photo and can’t believe that she has come such a long way. She can see the uncertainty in her face and laughs when she remembers how terrified she was at having so much power over any one person. It’s not a bad thing; she resigns herself to thinking, being wary of such power because it means she won’t ever abuse it. She looks back at the picture and grins; she has come a very long way in the last five years, even if some of her outfits have not. Gwen runs her fingers across the surface of the picture, tracing the edge of her first ever Domme outfit. She loves the way the corset makes her breasts look like they’re about to spill over the top, she knows a few customers who enjoy that too.

It had never been something she actively sought, career wise. She had read law at University, had been offered a fantastic starting position with Tintagel Law and was on her way to becoming a fantastic barrister until one case – Camlann versus the Crown – had sent her on a never ending rollercoaster of sleepless nights and high stress days. When the case had ended, she’d taken a leave of absence, packed her bags and gone to stay with an old university friend until she was ready to go back and face reality.

She hadn’t lasted a full twenty-four hours before Morgana had her trussed up and floating away on a cloud of bliss. 

She remembers the way Morgana had flung open the door to her flat in Mayfair, Morgana’s smile crumbling when she took in Gwen’s pallid features and the dark circles under her eyes. She’d taken Gwen in her arms, whispering promises of making the world slip away for a while and bringing her to a point where she could just be, without fear or consequence.

Gwen had curled up at Morgana’s feet, her head resting against long legs as she readily agreed.

It hadn’t been new for them. For all that it was a terrible cliché; University had been a time of exploration for the pair of them. While they could never bring themselves to love each other more than friends; Gwen had been happy to submit to Morgana from the first time they’d stumbled into The Heel, wide-eyed and gasping to try something new.

The memory of Morgana taking care of Gwen makes her flick to the next photo in her profile and she can already feel her skin start to tingle. The pale, straw-coloured rope against her dark skin sends a tingle down her spine as she remembers Morgana’s fingers dancing at each knot, making it perfect. She loves it when she’s able to give up control for a while; especially to someone as skilled and as caring a Domme as Morgana. Morgana is the only one Gwen trusts to not abuse the power she hands over.

Setting the first two photos aside, Gwen looks at the third. It’s the latest – Morgana had insisted on updating all profiles on the club’s website – and Gwen has to admit that five years make a very big difference.

She’s not the least bit uncertain in her latest photo and her eyes show a confidence that speaks volumes and the outfit… She sets the picture aside and turns to look in the mirror. The vinyl outfit clings to her every curve and she runs her fingers across her bust, stilling when a small gasp draws her attention. She turns to face the corner where the sound came from before sliding the riding crop from her boot.

Her Sweet has been so good this last hour as she’s sat in her room, going over her profile for the club and he definitely deserves a treat. She stalks over to him and runs the end of the crop from the waist of his leather-looking briefs up his chest and throat to tilt his head back.

“Get your lead,” she says softly, though her voice is firm. A tiny smirk pulls at her lips at the way her Sweet’s Adam’s apple bobs.

His brown eyes avoid hers. “Yes, Mistress.”

As he moves away from her, she brings the crop swiftly down across the left side of his arse. “I never said you could speak.” She delights in the way his shoulders curl inwards and his head lowers until his chin is pressed to his chest. “Get your gag.”

When he nods his acquiescence, she taps his backside once more – lighter than a moment ago – before stepping back to watch him. Of all the Submissives she has had, he is her favourite. His hair is short, but still long enough to pull on, to guide him, when she has one foot propped up and his face buried between her thighs and his skin is gorgeous. She grins when she spies a patch of pinkish flesh that seems a little stiff, her grin widening when she realises it’s a patch of wax from their earlier play that she has yet to flick off.

She blinks and he is kneeling in front of her, head bowed and his leather lead offered up to her. “Good boy,” she murmurs, taking the lead and clipping it to the thin, leather collar around his throat. 

She smiles softly then at the way his body shifts, chest puffing up with pride at having received such praise from his Mistress. Yes, this may not have been what she planned when she’d been mapping out her future, but she’s happy here. She’s strong and cared for, and in return, she cares for others, seeing to their needs.


End file.
